


Purr

by smithereen



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Catboys, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithereen/pseuds/smithereen
Summary: Joe is Nick's cat. Except for how one morning Nick wakes up, and Joe's a boy. Just porn.





	Purr

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in May 2010

Nick was having a very weird dream about his mom baking bread right in the middle of his chest, pressing into the dough, or maybe his chest _was_ the dough. And she had to hurry because there was a helicopter buzzing in the distance, and it was going to take him if she didn't make him arms out of whole wheat in time, and Frankie was eating one of his fingers, and- Nick jerked, his eyes blinking open. Eyes stared back at him. He jerked again, a yelp bursting from his throat as he realized with a wild rush of panic that there was a naked boy sitting on his hips. The boy was making a low throaty rumble just like a cat's purr, and his hands were kneading at Nick's chest, fingernails digging in sharp, catching lightly on Nick's shirt. His face was up close to Nick's face like he wanted to smell Nick's breath, just staring into Nick's eyes and blinking slowly. He butted his head suddenly into Nick's chin, rubbing his cheek along the length of Nick's cheek, the rattling purr noise getting louder in his throat. Nick took a gasping breath, trying to push the stranger off, rolling to dislodge him from Nick's hips. Nick rolled all the way off the bed, landing hard on his knees and elbows, scrambling off balance for his bedroom door.  
  
"Nick," the boy said. His voice was a high, plaintive trill.   
  
Nick hesitated with his hand on the door. "How do you know my name? What _is_ this? Who _are_ you?" Questions spilled over from his mouth. "Where are your _pants_?"   
  
The boy sat on the bed in a crouch with his hands pressed down flat in between his bare feet. He cocked his head and looked at Nick curiously like he wondered why Nick was so upset. "Joe," he said. "Is what you call me." He spoke slowly like the words were unfamiliar in his mouth, some of them extended oddly as if he was speaking in an accent Nick didn't recognize.   
  
"It's what _I_ call you?" Nick said, a little hysterically. "I've never seen you before in my life."  
  
The boy stared at him for a long, long moment blinking; his eyes a bit narrowed. He abruptly looked away, and started to lick at his own shoulder, pink tongue sweeping out against his bare skin. He ignored Nick completely, moving on to lick the side of his hand. He licked, and he roughed his hand up from the back of his head over the top, ruffling his hair. It was completely bizarre, but sort of strangely familiar, just like the way Nick's cat, Joe-  
  
Nick blinked. No. It couldn't be.  
  
Joe? The boy said his name was _Joe_. He was still ignoring Nick, licking and sliding his wet hand, his wet wrist over his own ear just like Joe, Nick's Joe, Nick's Joe who was a _cat_ , did when he fell off the mantle or Nick locked him out of his room or accidentally tripped over him. The way he acted when he was embarrassed or his dignity had been hurt somehow, when he was pretending to be above it all. It made Nick feel guilty almost, like he'd stepped on Joe's tail.   
  
But there was no way. It was _impossible_. This was obviously a crazy person who thought he was a cat. Not an actual cat who had somehow turned into a boy. That just didn't make _sense_. Nick eased backward, his hands on the doorknob behind him. He was just going to get out the door. He was just going to get away from the crazy person, and then he would go call 911. Or better yet, his mom. For not the first time since he'd moved into his own apartment, he just wanted his _mom_.   
  
Joe, or whatever his real name was, curled up into a tight little circle of limbs on the bed, his thick thighed, hairy legs tucked in close to his naked chest, and his hands tucked in under his head. He was so much golden skin, and he closed his eyes like he was asleep.  
  
What the heck? He was just going to _fall asleep_? Well, that was perfect, Nick reminded himself. Because now he could get out, and call 911, and not get assaulted by naked people. Except, how could he just fall asleep? Nick frowned at the boy. How could he come in here and scare the crap out of Nick and be all naked everywhere and then just go to sleep like he didn't care if Nick got him sent to the mental hospital or to jail or anything? He was faking. He had to be. Nick marched over and whispered in the boy's ear.   
  
"You're faking," he said. Joe's eyelids fluttered a little, but he kept them closed. His chest rose and fell in a fast rhythm. Nick leaned in close and clapped his hands together, stomping his feet and yelling, "Stop faking!"  
  
Joe burst into movement with a startled rush, leaping wildly off the bed. He knocked Nick off balance as he tried to burrow underneath the bed, wiggle himself into that little space behind the filing boxes Nick kept stacked neatly at the foot. That space where he hid when Nick got out the cat carrier to take him to the vet. But he couldn't fit back there toda- Nick stopped. When had he started thinking of the boy like he was really _Joe_? Nick needed to get a grip, a really tight grip, on logic right now because that was not his cat underneath his bed, his bare feet sticking out from under the bedspread. There were scrabbling noises, and then a few of the file boxes tipped over like they'd been shoved. The feet disappeared.   
  
Nick knelt down. He twitched back the bedspread, and Joe blinked into the sudden burst of light, trying to back up further under the bed, but there was just no space. He froze, obviously afraid. Nick's own fear faded. Whoever the kid was, he was confused, crazy maybe; but probably not dangerous. He hadn't actually done anything except be naked. And kind of creepy. Nick reached under the bed to grab onto Joe's arm. "Come on out," he said, pulling. "I won't hurt you, I just need to get you someplace that's not here. Someplace safe, I promise." Joe hissed, his mouth hanging open as the sound turned into a low sustained growl. Nick stared at the points of his incisors, long and sharper than any human teeth Nick had ever seen. He flinched a little when Joe twisted to try to bite his hand, but he kept pulling. Joe let out a long wail, his back hunching up, his fingernails catching on the carpet as Nick started to shift him out from under the bed. Nick stared at the way his fingernails were flexed out. They hadn't been that long a second ago. Nick let go, and backed up. He watched as Joe's fingernails, no, his _claws_ , hooked in and out of the carpet nervously, retracting and then sprouting out again. Just like a cat.  
  
Nick sat back on his heels. He could see Joe's eyes, wide open and glittering under the bed, his too sharp teeth, and his claws flexing in and out rhythmically. The teeth could be faked, but the claws- That wasn't plastic surgery. And that meant-  
  
"Joe?" Nick said softly. Joe just stared at him, tensed up and trying to make himself smaller. He opened his mouth and then closed it, a dry little exhale where the meow would be. Nick wiggled his fingers and patted the floor by his feet to coax Joe out, but he stayed where he was. Nick didn't want to try to drag him out again; to scare him any more than he already had. "Come on," he said, pitching his voice up high. "Come out, little jinxster." Nick felt himself flush with embarrassment when Joe cocked his head carefully, listening. It was how he talked to the cat sometimes when he was trying to get him to do something he didn't really want to do, his "who's a pretty kitty" voice. But it felt really weird talking to Joe like that when he was so big and naked and a _boy_. Nick cleared his throat. "Um- Please come out," he said lowering his voice until it at least was normal, even if nothing else was. "I'm sorry I scared you." Joe still wasn't budging. Nick let the bedspread fall back down.   
  
He sat for a moment, thinking, and then headed for the kitchen. When he came back he had a little bag of dry cat treats with him. He lifted the bedspread up again, and put a few treats down in front of Joe. Joe sniffed, nosing a little at the carpet; but he waited until Nick dropped the bedspread again before he gobbled them down. Nick waited for the crunching to stop, and then flipped the bedspread all the way up on the bed. Joe's head was poked out on his neck, swiveling a little, his nostrils flaring like he was looking for more. Nick backed away, sitting cross-legged a far enough distance from the bed that Joe would have to come out to reach him. He laid a little pile of treats on the floor in front of him, rattling a few in his hands to draw Joe's attention.   
  
Joe emerged from under the bed slowly, his body low to the ground. He sidled up to Nick, and put his face, his very pretty, very human face to the carpet. His full lips pulled back to delicately pick one of the treats up between even white teeth. "Oh," Nick said, cringing. Right. Joe wasn't exactly a cat anymore. Probably Nick shouldn't have been giving him cat food. He reached down to snag the food away, and Joe's shoulders hunched up, a deep growl in his throat. Nick backed off. Oh well. Kids ate off the floor all the time and mostly they didn't catch e. coli or whatever so- Nick watched fascinated by Joe's big hands with all their long human fingers spread out on the carpet, by his sleek arms and the slow curve of his spine. He was so bare without all his fur, so much smooth skin and just the sparse, coarse hair on his legs, on his chest, the longish, thick, shiny hair on this head. Nick tried not to look any lower, focusing on the dark sweep of his hair against his chin, against his bare shoulders. Nick touched it gently, gratified when Joe didn't hiss a warning. He stroked Joe's soft hair, ran his fingers through it. Joe crunched down on the last of the treats, and nosed around on the floor, his tongue flicking out against the carpet once, twice. He sat up when he realized there was no more. Nick reached out with a curious finger and touched the wiry hair on his chest, so different from the soft, thick hair on his head. Joe made a little trilling noise and pushed his head insistently against Nick's shoulder.   
  
He crawled up into Nick's lap, too big to fit now, his legs splayed out past Nick's hips, his hands kneading at Nick's chest. He bumped his cheek into Nick's shoulder, nosed at Nick's neck. His tongue flicked out, dragging slow and rough. He still had a cat's tongue, sandpapery, but bigger now. It felt bigger. A shudder of something like pain rolled hot up Nick's spine as Joe's tongue pulled up his neck. He got his hand between Joe's mouth and his face, and Joe kept licking, licking at his palm with wide deliberate licks, scrubbing Nick's hand with his tongue.   
  
"Come on," Nick said, trying to push him off. But he was so much bigger now. He just tipped all his weight onto Nick's shoulders, tumbling them both backwards onto the floor. Joe laughed, a hard little cackle completely unlike any sound he'd ever made before. Nick laughed too, surprised. His hand pet over the top of Joe's head. When he stopped, Joe pushed his head up hard into Nick's hand, stealing more pets from him one by one. A low purring rumbled in his throat. Nick dug his fingers into the skin at the nape of Joe's neck, scratching, and Joe purred harder. He pressed himself down onto Nick, nosing behind Nick's ear, his tongue wetting Nick's curls. His purring felt different now that he was human, bigger. Nick could feel it trembling against his chest, against his arm where it wrapped around Joe's ribs, vibrating low and deep like it was shaking things up inside Nick's body. Nick's insides lurched sluggishly with deep down heat, and he suddenly really noticed that Joe was _naked_. He'd noticed before, obviously, that was the first thing he'd noticed; but this was different. This was the kind of noticing that made him feel overheated and tender, claustrophobic in his own skin, the air not sitting right in his lungs. Joe's hips shoved forward, shoved in little rocking motions, and Nick realized with a low down shock that the thick heat against the crease of his thigh was Joe's _dick_.   
  
He shoved Joe away. Joe made a plaintive noise of protest, but Nick was already pulling himself to his feet, getting as much distance as he could. "Okay," he said. He tried not to breathe so hard. Joe rolled over onto his back, wiggling against the carpet, his limbs sprawled lazy and loose. He rolled from one side to the other, twisting, shoulder blades skidding against the carpet. He looked up at Nick through half-lidded eyes, bold. His dick was fattened up, thick and pink. "Okay." Nick spun so his back was to Joe, and clapped his hand over his eyes for extra insurance. He could still kind of see it even with his eyes closed. "Okay," he said. "We really, really have to find you some pants."  
  
*  
  
Nick thought he was going to have to fight Joe to get him into clothes, to make him use the toilet instead of the litter box, to make him stand up on his legs instead of crawling around. But Joe loved the toilet. Nick let him flush it over and over for about five minutes, laughing and ruffling Joe's hair while he crouched, his hands on the seat, watching the water swirl with deep fascination. Joe loved that he could reach the handle himself. He loved even more that he could get into the refrigerator on his own. It was true, he hated the clothes, tugging at the collar of the t-shirt Nick put him in until the seam popped. And he was clumsy on two legs, his center of balance thrown off, his legs and arms not quite where he expected them to be. But he tried everything Nick asked of him, smiling a wide, sharp-toothed smile, a deeply satisfied rumble in his throat every time Nick told him he'd done a good job.   
  
He tried everything Nick asked of him except the shower. He absolutely would not go near the streaming water, and thinking about the last time he'd tried to wash Joe in the sink, thinking specifically about the scratches all over his forearms, Nick caved. Eventually Joe was going to have to learn that licking himself just didn't cut it as bath time anymore, but that lesson could wait until tomorrow. They were both pretty exhausted.   
  
Joe still wasn't talking much, but it seemed to be more because he wasn't in the habit of it than because he didn't know how. He pretended not to understand when Nick told him to do something he didn't want to do, but that was pretty much the way he'd always acted.  
  
Joe followed Nick everywhere, tripping over his heels, and pressing up against his back, and waiting crouched on his haunches outside the bathroom when Nick wouldn't let Joe follow him inside. It reminded Nick of when he'd first brought the kitten home from the shelter. Joe had been tiny then, just a baby in a strange place. He'd cried out, lonely and pitiful, if Nick snuck out of his sight while he was distracted trying to climb the blinds. He sat on Nick's knee while he ate. He rode on Nick's shoulder from room to room. He'd stuck to Nick like glue; and Nick had let him because the truth was Nick hadn't been completely certain and unafraid himself back then. He'd been living by himself for the first time and having Joe with him, warm and soft and snuggled happily into him had made the whole apartment seem less empty, less like he was on his own.   
  
Back then if Nick ever tried to lock Joe out of his bedroom, he used to dig his little clawed paw under the door, rattling it and crying out until Nick felt guilty enough to open it again. He'd gotten a lot more independent since, but he still slept curled up in Nick's bed. Sometimes on Nick's pillow up above his head, sometimes snuggled into the curve of Nick's body, sometimes heavy on top of Nick's chest, his feet.   
  
Obviously, none of that was happening tonight.   
  
Nick felt a little guilty now, just like he'd always felt closing the door with the kitten outside, when he made up Joe's bed in the guest room. Joe looked at him with big, sad eyes. "Was I bad?" he said, the words he was still getting used to using sitting oddly in his mouth.  
  
"You didn't do anything wrong." Nick tugged his hand through Joe's hair soothingly. "It's just different," he said. "For people." He put Joe's favorite blanket on the bed.   
  
Joe frowned, his thick eyebrows drawing down. He pushed his forehead into the nape of Nick's neck, his tongue swiping out, catching on the collar of Nick's shirt, rough on Nick's skin. His breath was hot, wet. Nick stepped away from the twisting heat building in his gut. He put Joe's favorite little bean bag toy next to Joe's pillow. "People sleep in their own beds," he said. He threw a challenging eyebrow at Joe. "You're not scared, are you?"  
  
Joe stiffened up, his eyes going sly. He licked at the inside of his own elbow for a long moment, putting enough space behind what Nick had said that when he climbed up onto the bed it almost seemed like it was his own idea. He turned around and around restlessly on his hands and knees before finally settling down. They'd agreed to compromise on just boxers for sleeping since what Joe seemed to object to the most about clothes were the shirt collars too tight around his neck. He curled in on himself serenely, making himself compact, laying his head down on his hands folded neatly underneath his chin. But when he looked at Nick, he looked with wide, begging eyes. Nick smoothed his hand down the long curve of Joe's spine, petting. Joe purred, a light rumble that Nick could feel under his fingertips, feel low down.   
  
"There are blankets if you get cold," Nick stammered, edging for the door, edging away from the too tight heat of his own skin. "Good night." Joe watched him close the door with slitted eyes.   
  
*  
  
Nick's bed was quiet, cold, empty. Nothing to distract him from the echoes of Joe's hot skin on his fingers, Joe's rough tongue on his neck. Nothing to distract him from his dick going heavy and thick under his hand. And if maybe Nick worked two of his own slicked up fingers into his ass while he was jerking off. And if maybe he thought about Joe's cock swollen up fat and pink while he did it, stroking himself deep inside until he came with a swallowed moan. Well, maybe there was no way he'd ever admit it.  
  
*  
  
The thing Nick had forgotten was that Joe had hands now. He was tall and he had hands, which meant doorknobs were a little less effective at keeping him out than they had been before. He realized his mistake when he woke up with Joe curled hot skinned into his body. He had his bent leg flung over Nick's waist, his body draped half across Nick's chest, his lips snuggled into the curve of Nick's shoulder. He'd taken off his underwear. He blinked awake, coming easily out of sleep when Nick shifted. He started to lick at Nick's neck, the rough tug of his tongue sending a tight shiver through Nick's body, a flood of heat straight to his dick. Joe's fingernails kneaded at Nick's ribs, little sharp pricks. His nose nudged into the curve of Nick's neck, his tongue licking slow, long, long tugs that seemed to build on each other like catching fire, each one bringing Nick's nerve endings more awake, too awake, overwhelming rush of something right over the edge of pain. Nick shuddered. Joe's breath was hot. Nick was sweating where Joe's leg was heavy on top of him, where his bare chest caught on Nick's thin t-shirt.  
  
"I told you people don't-" Nick said, his breath catching when Joe rocked against him, firm press of his hard dick against Nick's ribs. A slick little blurt spit from Nick's cock. Joe's nostril's flared, and Nick felt him go alert, tense with muscle. He could feel the lazy swipe of Joe's tongue, the lazy press of his hips turning into something else, something demanding. He moved down Nick's body, taking hard sniffs until he was nosing at Nick's crotch. Nick shook, his legs trembling, a soft moan caught in his throat. Joe ripped at Nick's boxers, tugged them down with a hard jerk that left careless, shallow scratches along Nick's flanks. He shoved his face in Nick's crotch, nosing at his pubes, at the base of his cock. He rubbed his cheek against Nick's skin, the wiry curls of hair, the hard length of him. His tongue swept over the inside of Nick's thigh, tiny little licks. Nick panted as another slick spurt welled up from his dick. Joe sucked in sniffing breaths through his nose, followed the scent to Nick's dick. His tongue flicked out and swept over the sensitive head. Nick tensed, locked up, his back arching under the jagged pain pleasure of that rough tongue on the too sensitive skin.   
  
"God, don't-" he choked out. Joe's fingernails were kneading into the cut of his hip, sharp. Joe licked again, looking for more, the rough drag of his tongue snarling Nick up tighter, overheated. Nick's fists clenched helplessly in the sheets. Joe nosed at Nick's dick, snuffling at it, searching. He gave up and slid back down, buried his face in Nick's crotch again, nostrils flaring. His tongue swept up over Nick's balls. Nick writhed, his heels skidding restlessly against the bed as Joe's tongue worked thick and rough over the heavy weight of his sac. Nick gasped for breath, holding on with his fists to the sheets until his knuckles hurt. Joe mewled, high and wanting as he nuzzled down even further, his nose bumping into Nick's hole. His tongue dragged slow over the little pucker. Again. Rough, insistent licks. Soft little flicking licks that made Nick whimper with relief. And then the long drag again, the spiky tug that seemed to hook into his skin and pull, pull everything in Nick up with it until he couldn't, he couldn’t- Nick's hole clenched desperately, his dick aching. Joe's claws dug into his hip a little too sharply, and Nick's back arched. His dick jerked as he came in hard pulses, everything narrowing down to just the jolt of his hips, the orgasm yanked from him so deeply it felt like he was turning inside out.   
  
Joe was making strange noises, grumbly little half growls, his face frantically rubbing into Nick's crotch, smearing through the come on his leg, on his hip. He looked up, his eyes dark, his mouth hanging a little open. There was a wet streak of come on his delicate cheek, on the bridge of his nose. He made a deep yowling sound, his nostrils flaring, his hands kneading desperately at Nick's belly.   
  
He tugged at Nick with strong arms, flipping him onto his stomach. Nick went easily, raising his hips, hollowed out and loose. Dazed. Joe's tongue swept rough over the swell of Nick's ass cheek, and then he was crouching over Nick, his arms squeezed tight against Nick's sides, his body hot and close pressed up against Nick's back. Nick flinched when the head of Joe's cock nudged thick at Nick's hole, a little frisson of unease reaching him through the drained haze. His hips jerked down instinctively, his ass trying to tuck itself under. He started to edge forward, away. Joe bit down, blunt, on a thick chunk of flesh at the back of his neck. He wasn't biting to break the skin, and he didn't let go, holding Nick between his teeth, holding him still as his dick prodded at Nick's hole. As he punched in, deep.   
  
Nick let out a shuddery gasp, his eyes stinging wet, his body tightening up. He was glad at least that his fingers had left him slick enough to ease the way as Joe pushed in, because Joe wasn't waiting, wasn't careful. He rutted into Nick desperately in harsh little jabs, knocking broken grunts from between Nick's lips. Nick bit down on his own lip, his back bowed under Joe's weight, his body rocking forward with the relentless push of Joe inside him. Joe's teeth were firm against his skin, and his hands held onto Nick tight, his claws sharp sparks against Nick's ribs. Nick's dick started to throb, a heavy thrum between his legs, painfully wrung out and still wanting, still trying to fatten. He rode the burn until the pain twisted in him to something warmer, until he was shuddering under Joe, until his eyes rolled back as the slide of Joe's dick pressed into him rough, hard, good. He pushed back into Joe's thrusts, one hand braced on the headboard, the other cupped around his dick, just holding onto the sensitive ache between his legs, his whole body awake, too awake with feeling, too much, too much, more. More.   
  
end


End file.
